The Cycle

There we were. The warm air of the night gently cradled us to sleep as we told our stories. This was the night of nights. Tomorrow we leave. We forget everything. Memories? They're dust. They don't exist. Although we never wanted the night to end, it did,  and with it everyone packed up and left.

I never made many friends. The ones that I did make were all awkward. We were outcasts. The ones who never wanted to fit in. Correction we're the ones who stay up wishing to fit in, but never do. We exist. We're everywhere. We have problems. We have irrational fears. We stay up all night. Afraid. Perhaps it's the dark.

Or maybe we're not afraid of the dark. Maybe we're afraid of ourselves. The mere essence of being alone and facing the bottled up feelings ever so present in the years of adolescence.

Tomorrow this doesn't exist. We don't continue to exist as a group. Instead we are all our own separate entity. Alone. Friends come and go, but they don't have to. However, we choose to let them go. Sometimes it's not good to hold onto our past and even worse to have your past cling on to you.

People will always change. It's the way of life. Sometimes we fear change. Other times it's no big deal. Sometimes we don't even recognize changes, and sometimes it takes a while for us to notice the effects that befall us.

Look at us now. We are a group of friends. People in fact. All trying to accomplish a shared goal. That's how social science sees us. What goal do we share? The one where we make friends, the one where we have another to care for, or the one where we give and take as we please merely using each other to survive?

What use is it to survive though. What's the end goal? How do we know that everything is going to be okay? How do we know we have some place to go when there is no place to go, for the road ends and you can't go on?

We're just people. Now we don't know each other. After the first few days we forget who they are. They forget who we are. We are nothing. Even the memories forget, and then we're gone, and when we're gone all we have is a rock in place with our name, when we came, and when we left. Then after the last people to remember us are gone then we vanish. No one left to remember. No one left to care.

This is life. This is how it works. It's sad. You're here one day and gone the next. Hold on while you can, and let go when you can't. Follow the cycle.